This Broken Wondrous World Read Free Page A

doesn’t want to hear your silly children’s stories.”
    â€œActually, I love that stuff,” I said.
    â€œHow sweet of you.” Elisa gave me a warm smile, like she thought I was indulging Giselle. I smiled back, letting her think that. But really, this story sounded like it had roots, so I wanted to get some gossip on the neighbors before I met them.
    â€œSo she wasn’t always trying to eat people?” I asked Giselle.
    â€œNo. My friend Katja told me—”
    â€œOh, Katja?” said Elisa. “Then it must be true, eh?” She winked at me like we were both humoring her now.
    â€œYes,” said Giselle. “Katja said that a long time ago, themermaid fell in love with a fisherman. She made it so he could breathe underwater and brought him down to her home at the bottom of the lake. But he was sad because he missed his family. To try to make him happy, she flooded the part of the city where his family lived so they could all live under the water together. The townspeople were angry that she flooded the town and they tried to kill her. Even the man she loved turned against her. So she retreated to the deepest part of the lake and the waters went back to normal. But ever since, she hates man and tries to catch and eat him whenever she can.”
    â€œAh,” said William. “Folktales are such fascinating glimpses into past cultural beliefs.”
    â€œWas there really a flood?” I asked.
    â€œOh, yes, a very bad one a long time ago. Which is probably how this story came about. To explain a natural phenomenon in prescientific times. Now, of course, we know the lake was most likely flooded from glacial melt.”
    â€œBe careful, Boy,” said Elisa. “Don’t get the geologist going on a talk of glaciers. It will never end.”
    â€œOh, is that what your PhD is in?” I asked.
    â€œOh, yes!” said William. “It has always been my passion.”
    â€œThat makes sense,” I said. “Growing up next to those mountains could do that to someone.”
    â€œYeah,” said a new voice from the dining room entrance. “And once upon a time, he even used to climb those mountains, before he got old and lazy.”
    We all turned to the sound of the voice. A guy about my age leaned against the doorway. He was tall and thin, with pale skin, brown eyes, and wavy black hair that fell over one eye.
    â€œWelcome home, Henri,” said Elisa. “Typical of you to show up late for dinner but not too late to miss it.”
    Henri brushed his bangs out of his eyes and grinned at me.
    â€œI’m so sorry I wasn’t here to greet you earlier today.” He had the same soft French accent as the rest of his family. “There I am at a friend’s house in Paris, maybe a little hung over, and my phone starts beeping at me that you are arriving in ten minutes. Some use that reminder was, eh? I got on the next train but you know, it’s a five-hour ride. Hopefully, my family has not bored you into insensibility before I could rescue you.”
    â€œHenri!” said William.
    â€œDad, you are talking about glacial melt,” he said.
    â€œBoys, please,” said Elisa. “Henri, why don’t you get a plate and sit down with us?”
    â€œThank you, Mother, but no. My duty is clear. I must rescue our guest from the stuffy confines of Villa Dio-Snotty and show him a bit of the real Geneva before he begins to worry that the entire city is antiques and glaciers.”
    â€œCan I go, too?” asked Giselle, her pale eyes wide.
    â€œNo, my sweet sister. I promise you, someday you will join us. But today is not that day. Now . . .” He turned back to me, his brown eyes much like his mother’s, but with more mischief in them. “Are you ready to get the hell out of this mausoleum?”

    HENRI LIKED TO drive fast. The cool night air snapped around us as we swerved down the narrow, winding